


Oren and Morose just havin a good happy time

by uncannyprotector



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 06:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12292866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncannyprotector/pseuds/uncannyprotector
Summary: The title is pretty self-explanatory!  My friend's ocs, Oren and Morose havin a good time





	1. Amongst the City

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Aftermath](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/328341) by Kamryn Massey, Aaliyah Cobb. 



> GUYS idk anything about skyrim so PLEASE bear with me

I woke up, the sheets warm and soft, I could smell food down below. It's probably nothing too special though, I mainly smell fresh bread and, perhaps that's potato soup? I should probably get up, get a bearing on my surroundings. I rolled off the bed, got dressed, and put on my glasses, it was at that moment I noticed: Morose is gone. Oh dear, where could he have gone? What could have happened to him? I ran so quickly that I stumbled down the stairs, and landed right on my rear. How foolish I must have looked! The sound of a hearty laugh filled the tavern, the embarrassment increased with its presence. It's not really one you'd expect Helga to have, but it was her, alright. Next to her was a sight I'm very much not used to: Morose in an apron and his hair tied back. 

"Hey, I've got us some more gold by doing small jobs around town. Right now I'm making soup to help out Helga. You've been a sleeping a long time, did you rest well?"

See, I probably would've said something coherent back if I still wasn't so shaken by Morose's unusual costume. What I ended up letting out was "MME HUNGY!"

Do you think God stays in Heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he's created? Helga falls to the floor, clutching her stomach laughing maniacally and witch-like. I'm really glad that they're the only two here, otherwise I'd be panicking right now. Can't say my ears aren't beet red to the tip, though. Morose just acted as if this were a normal everyday occurrence: he laid a bowl of soup in front of me with a small loaf of bread.

"There you go."

Mind you, I'm still sitting on the floor like a toddler from my fall. This is quite possibly the silliest I've ever felt. Nevertheless, I have my food. Not to complain of my beloved friend Morose, but this is the least tasteful potato soup I've ever had. It's like eating Lenthil's soul. It makes me feel cold and depressed; It desperately needs an additional ingredient, a spice, anything. I grimace slightly, but Morose didn't take notice. Finishing the soup, I go on to my bread. This bread is actually quite gratifying! Perfectly golden brown, firm outside yet soft and squishy inside, and not too hot. Ah! What's this? The bread has blackberry jam in it! Oh, it tastes divine. 

"Compliments to the chef on the jam bread!"

"And what of my soup?"

"Ah, hm... well..."

"I see," Morose turns to Helga, "My apologies, Ma'am, it seems the soup didn't come out well. The bread seems to have turned out fine though."

Realizing she's being addressed, she finally is able to stop laughing,"Oh it's okay Morose, I'm sure it's decent enough. Here's the gold I promised, and you are welcome to another stay here."

"Thank you, Helga" I chime in.

Morose and I go back upstairs. I put all of our things back in place as Morose folds his apron and lays down his hair.

"There's something I'd like to do. Come with me," He states.

"Vague, but alright, I suppose."

As we're heading out of the city, we stop by the bakery and buy some more bread. The owner thanks Morose again for his help earlier in the morning, to which he offers to work again sometime. 

"Okay, we're here."

We're on the edge of town, before a man with a small stand. "For what?"

"He's an apothecary. Don't spend everything here."

I buy a few herbs from the man, not for spells or anything, but for tea! Morose has been wanting me to relax lately. It's coming upon the later part of the day, so we begin to head back to the tavern. On our way back into the main part of town, I spot a painter and have Morose sit in his chair. The look on his face was comical. I handed the artist money and sat promptly in the dirt next to him as he painted morose in the evening. When he finished the work, Morose and I got up to look, and I was stunned-


	2. A Real Beaut

As the evening caught us, the painting's colors were darker, but it really was beautiful. The deep red background added during the twilight looked lovely against Morose's dark skin. The artist perfectly captured all of his features; although I do wish Morose would've smiled, it would have made for a happier work.

"Thank you so much! It looks just like him."

"And thank you for your money, good night." After he bid us farewell, he gathered up his things and headed for an alley. I admired the painting a while longer before Morose and I returned to the tavern.

Though the night has only just begun, Helga is already swamped with customers.

"Ay boy, whatcha got there?" A stranger asks.

"It's a painting of my close friend," I respond, "got him from an artist in town this evening."

"You're friends with a dremora? How tall is he? Quite handsome Devil isn't he?"

"Oh! He is.... um... very? tall? He's right... there?" I went to turn around, and Morose was nowhere to be found.

In the now missing status of my beloved friend, I figured I go upstairs to check and see if he's in our room by chance. After a glance around the room, there was no sign of my large companion, not until I noticed that his apron was no longer folded upon the bed. Working even now, why is he doing that? Looking over the long day I had, I was suddenly stricken by a wave of weariness and passed out.


End file.
